


Your Damn Hat

by Unknown_Soldier



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hate me, Haytham has big dick energy, Hello ac3 remaster, Slow Burn, and likes hats, fic from 2015 that i never posted, give me inspiration to finish this please, i want this too be longish, it some trash oc, just imagine yourself as a theif during ac3, more info inside, no "insert name" bullshit, or just a big dick idk, revamped fic from 2015, slooooooooooooooww, very slow, who stole some blades, you have a fucking name in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 15:36:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18574423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown_Soldier/pseuds/Unknown_Soldier
Summary: Finley just adored hats, mainly stealing them. But when the nothing theft steals the hat from the Grand Master of the Templars, she gets stuck in a war she had no idea about.I do not own Assassin's Creed or own anything but this Fiction itself





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys so basically this is a fanfic from 2015 when i loved Assassins Creed 3; i still do and the remaster has me oof. So i rewrote this and i just need inspiration to finish it real shit. Thank you guys for reading/being here and enjoy my crackhead mind. 
> 
> It can be reader insert if you think of yourself as Finley, I'm so fucking tired of *insert your name/hair color/eye color*. I'm not saying they are bad but it really takes me out the zone yeah know? This is some OC trash and we both know it. But still thank you for clicking on this story and enjoy; or dont, thats cool too.

“Oi, come back here you thief!” The redcoat shouted as he climbed a side of a building with others right behind him. 

The sunlight shined heavily onto the roof tops as she rushed across and dove to the other building. Her hands touched the ground before her feet did and rolled over her shoulder in a swift motion before running again. Her skirt like bottoms flew in the wind as she ran, and her laugh roared through out the streets as people watched in shock as the scene unfolded in front of them.

“It’s only a hat, mate! Also a few coins maybe.” She snickered as she faced forward again realizing that there were no more buildings to jump to and only an open plaza. She abruptly stopped, her boots sliding causing more friction on the ground, looking back behind her to see the British men already there.

“Alright little girl, hand back the items you have stolen from us.” The leader of the group step forward, hat-less and red from the chase. “Hey she stole me necklace from me pocket!” One spoke up from behind angrily.

“I would love to return all of your items, but you see for me to do my job I must keep them. I mean, what kind of thief would I be if I gave back everything I stole.” She chuckled even more. She turned back around to face the edge of the building and spotted a man by his horse that was pushing a cart of hay. 

Smiling a dangerous smile, she reached behind pulling out her bow and two arrows from her quiver. “Désolé mes amis, but I must get going now.” Turning back to face them, she jumped backwards and shot the two arrows at once piercing their leader in the chest. With the two arrows poking out of him, he fell to his knees as the others quickly came to his side.

The thief fell backwards into the pile of hay. Golden straws flew up into the air as she landed then came back down settling back on top of the pile. The man being stunned for a moment, did not say a word but kept walking by his horse. She rested in the pile and peered out every now and again to see where they were, when they were far enough from the crime scene she popped back out with the bright red hat in hand, and approached the man who owned the hay.

“My apologies sir for the fright needed a quick getaway. I must thank you for not voicing that I was hiding, as token of appreciation please have this.” She handed the man a sack of coins that she picked pocketed from one of the guards.

“Not a problem madam, now be careful out there the will be looking for you.” He exclaimed as he gladly took the money.

She turned around and started to walk away and waved back at him laughing while claiming “They always are!”

Walking down the cobblestone path her skirt was getting pushed around by the wind. She wore black tights under her skirt. The crimson red skirt lined with black around the fabric and gold stitching was long in the back going down to her boots while in the front was shorter split in two pieces, making it easy to run and jump when needed. A golden stash was tied at her hip along with her French cutlass navel sword. Having many knives tied on her leg in case needed. She wore a corset and a ruffled shirt under pieces of fabric that covered her shoulders down to her elbow having it lined with little white ruffles and gold embellishments. A satchel was slung across her body with dark brown pockets on the straps. 

Her soft brown hair was styled in what seemed like a last minute braid, loose enough where strands would break free and fly in the wind, the gentle sunlight helped it glow as she walked down the streets of Boston.

It was noon in Boston as she took into the streets having the British hat hang from her belt and putting away the rest of the stolen items. The streets in Boston were busy, which was good for business if you’re a thief. She walked through the crowds slipping her hand into their pockets and bags pulling out coins, jewelry, and other items. Blending into the crowd she spotted two men walking further down both dressed elegantly as if they were higher class. She watched from a distance away observing them. 

Not seeing their face at all she watched one in navy blue and saw what was on his head.

“Hat.” She smiled her dangerous smile. 

Knowing fully well what her next mission was. She slipped out of the crowd following them staying far enough back so she was not spotted. Observing how the men walked and how quiet they talked. She then realized that they might be important figures. 

“I don’t care, I just want that man’s hat and maybe take his life.” She spoke quietly and stubbornly to herself.

She looked at the tall man taking in any features about him that she could. He was a broad man with wide shoulders, his hair was tied back with a single red ribbon and a black cloak lay crooked on his shoulders with an odd golden pattern. The man had two different cuffs on his arms, she squinted her eyes to see if she could identify what was hidden in his sleeve but failed. 

While being so focused on the man the thief forgot about her surroundings, snapping back into reality she realized many people started to stare at her. She then heard children laughter behind her and saw the horde of peasant children following her. She reached into one of her pockets and threw money on the ground to lessen the attention. The sound of coins hitting the ground must have added to the attention since the male in the brown coat had turn around to look what was going on.

As smooth as she possible could she looked down letting her hair fall to the sides of her face acting like she was just another regular civilian. But it must have not worked as the man grew suspicious and talking to his counterpart about her.

“God damn it.” She muttered before going with plan B, “It’s either no attention at all, or get all of their attention to remain under the radar.” She sighed before jogging to them and walking right between them and pushing them away.

“Have some respect women.” One shouted angrily while the thief completely ignored him. “I said have some respect!” He reached out and grabbed her by her shoulder spinning her around to face him. Her brown hair spun around as her braid flopped about. Grabbing his hand she pried it off of her shoulder.

“Please do not touch me.” She spoke bitterly watching how his face scrunched up in frustration and how quickly his hand retracted and formed into a fist. “My, I do apologies sir I was in a rush to get somewhere.” She looked over to the man in navy blue who smiled a warm smile towards her.

“Understood madam, and I do apologies for Charles here, but apology accepted. But I do have a question, what is on your forearm?” He baited pointing to her forearms. Her kind smile soon faded sharply as she realized that she may have been exposed. “Oh good heavens I must get going, Au revoir gentlemen!” She retorted nervously and left as quickly as she came.

As soon as she knew she was out of site she ducked into an ally pulling out a piece of paper. “Well Charles you should learn how to properly put away an important document. I’ll save this for later.” She snickered before tucking it away and watching where Charles and the strange man were walking.

Running up a wall on the side of a building and grabbing on to a window to get to the top, she decided that it would be better stay above and further away since they already know how she looks. Tip toeing across ropes and hoping from building to building for hours until it was night fall.

“Lord how long can these people manage to walk for? They walked across half of Boston!” She complained quietly to herself while wiping off some sweat. The men finally stopped at a tavern where an emblem of a green dragon hung above the large doors, the thief sighed of relief as she settled across the tavern.

She was determined to get that hat if that meant waiting for hours. She lied down against the wall feeling the cold breeze gently touch her skin. Her mind wandered as she thought about these well dressed men, were they political leaders? But if they were what are they doing residing at a tavern? She made a face before yawning and placing the red hat over her face to get some well-deserved sleep.

Hours later the thief’s slumber was suddenly interrupted by a door closing shut. Waking up mid snore, the red hat fell from her face to her lap and she groaned as she got up, before even getting to stretch her aching muscles she saw the man in the hat walk down the quiet street. Nightfall was at its peak and the moon at its highest as he strolled down an empty street. 

She silently cheered as she watched him go down an ally and followed quietly. Her foot steps where light as she jumped across the buildings, watching him as he strolled down the alley, she settled on a wooden bean directly above him, letting her clothes dangle and sway in the wind, the moonlight glowed a soft white glow, casting her shadow on cobblestone ground.

“What is he doing in this ally this late at night?” She questioned in her mind but then realized that she did not care. 

She squatted on the wooden beam and reached to the hat, she huffed when she realized she was inches away from it. She smiled brightly at her next idea, throwing her legs back she hooked her knees to the wooden beam and hung upside down. She reached painfully when she finally felt the fabric wrapped in her hands.

She was ecstatic as she began to slowly lift the hat up with gentle ease. Her heart pounding and her face was beaming with pride. As soon as she lifted the hat enough to snag it, a large hand wrapped around her petite wrist. Her eyes widen with shock as she felt the hand tighten.

“Putain.” She vocalized in French with a grouchy expression before being thrown off the bar and face first into the cobblestone road. 

“That’s going to fucking hurt in the morning.” She groaned in pain as she climbed to her knees and spit out some blood. 

“Ah yes the women for earlier, how did I know you would come back looking for me?” He questioned for a moment has he grabbed a fist full of her hair, she shrieked as he lifted her up solely by her hair, feeling as if she was being scalped.

“The truth won’t sound pretty let me tell you that.” She spoke boldly between cries as he yanked harder on her sun-kissed hair.

He growled and raised his voice, “Did the assassins send you to kill me? I knew you were an assassin when we met!”

She looked shocked and confused before she chuckled and lifted up her arms. “You mean these things?” She questioned before withdrawing both blades from her wrist and skillfully cutting both of his arms.

His death grip on her hair was free then she lounged at him grabbing his hat and rolling over her shoulder. With the hat in her possession she placed it on top of her head before running over to a table with a rope hanging down.

“No idea what you are talking about, all I wanted was the hat and maybe death, but that was optional. Au revoir!” She sliced the rope getting sent up to the roof and sprinted away.

Looking behind her she saw him catching up quickly his hidden blade was out and he was prepared to pounce. She held onto the hat on top of her head as the wind picked up. The soles of her feet pounded on the roof tops, as her lungs started to feel heavy and she was breathing harder. 

“I can’t let him win.” She muttered to herself before jumping down into another ally painfully as her knees became numb, shrugging it off she turned down into the open street. More and more pain flew into her body and her legs were getting weak.

She soon realized her mistake as the man jumped down from the building. It happened so slowly that he looked like a hawk swooping down and killing its prey. Her back slammed against the hard ground as he landed on top of her. Feeling small rocks impale her back as she lied still. She felt her head throbbing in agonizing pain and wanted to crawl into a ball to make it stop. His blade pointed at her neck inches away from her skin. He sat on top of her pinning her down painfully by the hips. With his other hand he reached over her head and grabbed his hat back placing it back onto his head.

“I want answers now, Assassin.” He demanded while the thief struggled to breath.

“I am not an assassin, I’m just a common thief.” She groaned loudly as she watched him pull out some rope.

“Please don’t tie me up.” She stated as she watch him grab both of her hands.

“I’ll go where ever you want me to, or you can just let me go run free and we forget about this little incidence?” She questioned hopefully but then she watched as he stared into her eyes and tie the rope as tight as he could. 

He then moved down and tied her legs together, starting with her knees then with her ankles. “Weak ankles don’t tie-“ she was abruptly cut off with a jolt of pain and a silent scream escaped her lips. “Tightly.” She weakly finished off her sentence before being picked up and thrown over his shoulder.

“You’re a special kind of asshole do you know that?” She babbled being swayed back and forth as he walked. “No mercy for the assassins.” He stated expressionless.

She cursed under her breath, “All I wanted was your damn hat.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops its been a couple of months ahdjaffa i fandom hop sorry. more hats more hats more hats more

The two large oak doors swung open with a kick as the man carried her through the tavern, the thief scrunched up her face when the smell of sweat and stale booze infested her nose. The tavern was dark asides from the light coming from the upstairs. She struggled under his hold as she was being carried upstairs, she wiggled and shifted until his grip tightened around her like her whole body was being choked.

Not being able to see what was going on, the voices stopped as the man violently threw her into a chair. The girl looked up to see four men in total staring back at her.

“Oi, whatcha’ got there ol’fam?” One spoke leaning forward his hat skewed to the side ever so slightly. 

“Ohhh, Hat.” She smiled as she spoke watching the man grin mischievously. Taking off his hat and placing it on her head. “There ya’ go, ol’lass.” 

“Enough, Thomas.” He raised his deep voice sharply. His hand covered his eyes, as if he wasn’t stressed enough. 

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you would just let me take your hat or let me go either or would have worked.” She pestered feeling like she was a young child again.

“Quiet assassin.” His voice spewed venom. The rest of men eyes widen in surprise. 

“I am not an assassin! How do I prove it to you that I am not, I know this looks really bad but I got places to be.” She wiggled in her seat before the man began to question her as he searched her body.

“Name.” He began as he unbuckled the blades from her wrist. 

“Finley.” She said assertively. She looked around to see the others at the table discussing some form of paper work while Thomas eyed her up and down.

“Finley ‘ay? Neva’ heard that name before.” He winked at her watching as her cheeks flared up.

“It’s Gaelic.” Finley explained before her chair began to move and drag along the wooden floor screeching as she was towed. She was taken to another room but not before having the hat being ripped off her head and thrown back at Thomas who roared with laughter. The then being violently door being slammed shut.

The room appeared to be a bed room with two beds, Finley observed. She was dragged into the center of the room still tied up as the man glided her Hidden blades off her wrist.

“Do you have a last name Finley?” his voice still rough but with a sort of charm to it, like when she first met him. Deciding to corroborate she huffed out a sigh before replying   
“Jadwiga. Finley Jadwiga.” She felt him take off the other blade and moved his hands to her hips pulling out her French cutlass.

“If I may ask what is your name?” Finley asked quietly not wanting to anger him.

“Haytham Kenway.” He spoke with a voice as hard as the steel end of his blade but yet managed to sound rich and pleasing like honey. 

She watched as he ran his hands up her skirt, feeling every soft part of her as he searched for weapons. Raising an eyebrow she sighed heavily.

“Pour l’amour de dieu, are you done yet, scoundrel?” Huffing in annoyance as she feels his hands picking at her tights.

A hand shot up and grabbed her by the jaw, squishing her face roughly together. She gasped struggling in her chair as he tilted it back onto its back legs. His hand crushing harder onto her jaw as it was the only thing from keeping the chair from falling back.

“Hold your tongue or ill hold it for you, thief.” She watched his grin grow wider as she struggled more underneath his grip. Finely looked up at the ceiling asking herself what has she done to get into this situation. Tears pooled around her ocean eyes threatening to spill without warning. 

With that she was pulled back into reality, the wooden chair slammed back onto all fours and her head swung forward. Hunched her herself as much as she could be. Her once braided hair spilled out and formed a curtain around her face and she sees a drop of water hit the ground. Haytham’s hand was no longer locked onto her jaw but the feeling was still present and throbbing a cherry red color.

Finely felt the floor creek with every step Haytham took, circling her like a vulture who hasn’t had a meal in ages. He stopped behind her, pulling her shoulders back into the chair, forcing her to sit up.

“Why did you attack me in the ally?” Haytham started up once again with the same repetitive questions. 

“I wanted your hat.” She spoke simply with a puff of air. “I wouldn’t even call that an ‘attack’ mon amie, that was more of a, what do you call it, a robbery.” She emphasize with spite baring her teeth. 

“Oh but why would you say that Ms. Jadwiga? Why would you say it was an robbery?” She began to imitate his voice, “Well now that you asked Mr. Haytham Kenway, its because I am a fucking thief.” She shouted feeling her body start to shake with anger.

Her echoed voice eventually silenced as nothing moved in the room. All that can be heard is her heavy breathing as she struggled under the robs enough that she threw herself onto the floor. She wrestled with the ropes for her dear life with anger in her eyes.

Haytham watched her on the floor, like a dead fish flopping about looking for water. He chuckled at the sight of it all. At that moment he knew she wasn’t an assassin, knowing all well that they are more composed then she will ever be.

He watched her slowly give up and her anger subside. Her body went limb and she hit her head on the ground breathing harder then ever. She clenched her eyes shut letting all her frustration go as she fully come to the realization of the situation.

She rolled over to his boot and looked up at him with pleading eyes, she had one last attempt left in her.

“Will you please let me go, Mr. Kenway.” She watched him bend down to her level. He gently held her chin up to look at him directly. Her nostrils filled with his scent making her head spin, a mixture of spices and gun powder. 

And with a gentle smile he spoke, “I’m afraid not, you will be of great use to me.” He gazed at her as he watched all the color drain from her face and her mouth open in shock. 

“So just fuck me and my life, right?” She asked sarcastically as he picked her up back onto the chair. With a thud he set her down before reaching for the door.

“That will not help your situation but might relief some tension, if you are offering.” Haytham turned to her with a cocked eyebrow.

She frowned her eyebrows and had a look of distaste on her face. “Dégoûtant, you animal.”

Haytham rolled his eyes and walked out the door closing it behind him, “Stay put, women. Ill be back in a moment.” He stated before closing the door. 

The door creaked loudly in protest as it was shut. Leaving Finley alone in her thoughts. Her eyes darted around the room looking for any means of escape. The wooden room seemed bare to the eyes as she attempted to shuffle around as quietly as possible. Her oceanic eyes gleamed with excitement as she spotted her weapons resting on a oak table.

She smiled a smile that one would only call the Cheshire cat smile. Her white teeth gleamed through as delicately stood on her toes. Swaying back and forth as the ropes constricted her, but non the less she persisted. She hobbled over to the table eventually leaning to it for support.

She gawked at her weapons like she never did before. Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she figured out a way to get her hands on them. She looked over them as the gears spun in her head. The pain through out her body suddenly halted as she kicked into flight or fight mode.

Finely looked over her French cutlass that hung off of the table. With the blade side up she turned her back to the blade and began to rub it on the robe that gave up in an instant.

A silent victory as she freed her arms. As quickly as she could she grabbed the handle of the blade and slashed the rest of the rope. 

I’m free.  
She watched the tattered rope hit the ground with a thud. The strands slowly fell apart on the floor into a mess. With her blades buckled in and her motivation kicked in. Her head suddenly spun to the door, hearing footsteps.

She eyes widen and they looked back and forth, she watched the rusted door knob start to turn. Her body reacted before her mind could and she dashed above, silently walking over the wooden beams before squatting over then, her hands dangled over her knees.

Her body trembled in anticipation. Her clothes clung to her skin as her sweat seeped through, staining the fabric a darker color then it originally was. Her breathing was coming out in pants, forcing her hand to cover her mouth as the door finally kicked opened.

“’ight love, I gottcha a little present from the big ol’ boss.” She watched the drunk man sway in with a bottle in hand and his hat crooked. He leaned against the wooden frame and tilted his hat up waiting for his vision to clear.

He looked at the empty seat and the ropes on the ground and his smile fell.

“oh bullocks.” He muttered as he walked into the room, he bent down and grabbed the tattered ropes looking around. Suddenly her was on his back with a thud. 

The bottle he once held was disregarded across the room with a clang, as it rolled. Finley looked down at poor ol Thomas who was pinned underneath her. Her hips pinned his body down as she held a knife over his throat. She gave him an apologizing smile as the knife trembled in her hand, his brown eye glanced down at himself before smiling a wild smile.

“If yeah wanted to bump uglys yeah could have just asked, ol’ lass.” He rested his hand on her thigh as she rolled her eyes at him. She reached down and grabbed his hat before looking up at the table where all the gentlemen sat. She watched as the person she feared most stood up, adjusting his coat before turning around.

“May-maybe another time Thomas.” She stuttered as she placed the hat on her head, “Je vais partir.” She mumbled in her native tongue, leaping off of Thomas and sprinting down the stairs.

Her feet pounded the wood as she eventually dove over the railing. The wood creaked in protest as she landed rather harshly. She ran a swollen hand through her hair forcing it out of her face, only to be met with the end of a pistol. 

She watched a finger cock the lever back and walk over to press it against her sweating forehead. She felt the barrel push into her skull and she forced herself to close her eyes. More tears threatening to escape as she raised her hands in protest.

“That’s right kitten, raise those little paws.” She heard the raspy voice say, Finley already knew who it was. The scratchy bearded man named Charles. 

She opened her eyes to and looked at the stairs, only to see Haytham standing there, with his hands clasped behind his back as if he was watching a show.

Her eyes threw daggers at him, the same daggers that he has seen a million times before when he has kidnaped people. There was no sorrow in those eyes anymore, only fire.

“You want to see a show you, you,” She stuttered again before finishing the sentence, “le salaud?!” Her hand clenched up into a fist turning white. “Well this is a show about your death!” She screamed before turning her body and kicking the gun out of his hand. She shoved her shoulder into Charles forcing him to the ground before sprinting out of the tavern.

She mounted a horse before sprinting off into the moonlight, feeling the cold wind dry her tears, as she aimed towards the forest.

She needed to hide, she needed to feel safe again. She was young and she thought she had no fear, till she met her greatest nightmare.

**Author's Note:**

> comment your favorite hat from Assassins Creed 3
> 
> ill start, this whole fucking story was inspired by Haytham's Hat and me just wanting to snag it.


End file.
